


Crisis Management

by dancinbutterfly



Category: Entourage
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-19
Updated: 2007-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1641818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/pseuds/dancinbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ari Gold is good in a crisis. ~ E/Vince, set after the Cannes Kids(4.12)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crisis Management

**Author's Note:**

> Fourteen Candles - I really hope this is what you wanted. I did the very best I could and I hope you enjoy it. Happy Holidays!  
> Assisted by Kaci, Ashley, Anne, Rachael H, Steph,and Ryu. All of you either listened to me complain or beta'd and I thank you so much for your patience and help. You guys are the best!
> 
> Written for fourteencandles

 

 

Harvey scares the ever-loving bugfuck out of him. It strains the laws of nature: a Jew with a military history who was younger than sixteen in 1945. He's got big buggy eyes to match the bugfuck scariness and a vein in his head that Ari is pretty sure is going to explode one day.

That aside, the man throws one hell of a party. His entire mansion is populated with the type of pussy that makes Ari wish that he wasn't married to a woman whose vagina has teeth.

Still, the eye candy is not worth risking Harvey's presence. The man's psychotic and Ari is much happier a safe restraining order's worth of distance away from the man.

But Vince's little passion project has made it impossible to be anywhere else tonight. For some reason Ari still can't fucking fathom, he cares for Vinny Chase almost as much as he does for his own kids. He just hopes that his son doesn't give him as much shit as Vince has over the last five years because if he does, Jonah'll be dead before his bar mitzvah.

"I don't care what that crazy bastard wants." Harvey is showering him with spittle as he shouts, despite the fact Ari's sitting less than a foot away from him and can hear the two models talking ten feet away without any fucking trouble, thank you very much. "When you sold me that movie, that mental patient lost his rights!"

Ari rubs his eyebrow with his thumbnail and curses Walsh. Then he curses Eric fucking Murphy for being right about the son of a bitch. Smug pizza-licking leprechaun motherfucker.

He hates it when E's right. Really. The only thing he hates more is that face his wife makes right before she tells him that no, she's not going to fuck him tonight, she's not even going to blow him or give him one measly little hand job because he likes to end it messy--preferably all over her face--and she's already showered, and could he please make sure he closes the bathroom door all the way before beating off?

To Harvey he just shrugs and gives him a 'what can you do?' expression. It's not like he asked Walsh to sue for breach of contract. "What do you want me to do? I'm an agent, not a lawyer."

"You represent him!"

It's an excellent point, one that Ari hasn't stopped regretting since they got back from France. But he gives Harvey a winning smile and shakes his head.

"Yeah. And I told him he shouldn't fucking sue but the guy won't listen. He's as crazy as a box of rabid fucking wolverines and half as reasonable. Your best option is probably to just shoot him," Ari jokes.

But Harvey's brows crease in consideration and he feels that cold panic flood his gut like a reaction to bad Mexican food.

"Kidding," he says quickly. "Listen, if he's smart, which he's not, he'll settle out of court. If not, he'll waste money he doesn't have only to lose in court because the producers signed off with you, and in the end, they're the ones with that right, not a Fellini wannabe in a pair of worn out Converse. Don't worry about Walsh."

"Ari-"

"Hold that thought Harvey," he says abruptly, tired of this endless argument. He's getting a headache and he needs a drink or seven. Or maybe something stronger. God, he misses being twenty-one and invincible.

Besides, Walsh was Vince and E's mess, not his. And where the fuck are they, anyway? They'd been here when the conversation started, before the topic moved from the edits on _Medellín_ and shifted to its loose cannon director. Probably fucking one of the beautiful women that he can't even breathe too close to. Why had he gotten married again?

Oh right.

'Cause he fucking loves his fucking wife. Or something like that. He'd been an idiot in college.

"I hate to do this to you but I've got to piss like a racehorse. Point me in the direction of the john?"

Harvey gives him directions more complex than navigating the 405 at rush hour. He's not sure he's got everything but it's enough for government work and it gets him the fuck away from the guy.

Ari takes the long way around. He stops at the bar and gets a scotch and then makes his way past a pair of girls topless on top of an older man in Armani who neither deserves nor could possibly appreciate the pairs of tits being waved in his face. He skirts around the B-level movie actor he refused to sign snorting blow off a small mirror with one of the barely legal _High School Musical_ girls and away from the striking TV writer and his disproportionately hot musician girlfriend chatting it up with the gossip columnist.

The music from the party fades the farther he gets into the house. There's sex going on in this part of the house. He can't hear it but over the last twenty years he's been to enough parties just like this to know what was going on behind closed doors. He just hopes that there isn't a line outside the bathroom or, that if it is being used by cokeheads on a bender, they'd have the decency to lock the door.

He tries several different locked doors, looking for a bathroom or at least an empty bedroom to finish his scotch and take a breath in peace, before one finally opens. The light on the other side of the door is blindingly white and for a split second he can't see anything besides the brightness.

Then his vision clears and he sees more than he has ever wanted to. He slams the door shut and blinks a few times. He glances down at his glass, which is still nine tenths full and wonders if his drink has been spiked and how much GHB it really takes to fuck you up.

He can hear them talking in hushed tones and he's pretty sure its Eric who snaps "I know I locked the fucking thing."

Then he shakes his head and he opens the door once more hoping against hope that E and Vince are not going to be on the other side talking about how it was possible that the door got unlocked. But he's not high and they're still there, although at least now Vinny's off the goddamn floor.

Only now he's wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and oh sweet fucking Jesus that's not something he ever needed to see. Not in a million fucking years. He doesn't need a reminder of what he's seen that mouth doing. Ever. Again.

E's face is bright red and he's fiddling with straightening his shirt and Ari is suddenly so angry he can hardly breathe. He's never actually seen red before but everything in the bathroom - from Vince, to E, to the blue porcelain of the bathroom's sink - has got this reddish-pink tinge to it. But he's not sure if that's because of the rage or the sickening display of queerness he's just witnessed.

He takes a step into bathroom and shuts the door behind him, muting what little noise from the party could be heard in the back of the mammoth house. The sound of him pushing the lock seems freakishly loud in his ears.

"Ari, look-" Eric begins and Ari jerks his hand into the air, silencing him.

"Not. One. Fucking. Word," he snarls and for once in his life, the arrogant little mick bastard actually does as he's told. In return, Ari doesn't coldcock the pintsized son of a bitch.

Ari takes several deep breaths because he can't lose his shit. Or rather he can - and he will. He is damn well going to lose his fucking shit later with screaming and he might even throw some very expensive and heavy things at E's head- he just can't here. This is not the fucking time or place for that. Not a single person in the room can afford that.

He can't even count the number of questions that need to be raised here. How long's it been going on? How'd it start? Who knows and how many guys has Vince been with before so that Ari can draw up a list of people that need to be killed? He settles on the most important of all the questions.

"Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you two are?" he hisses through teeth gritted so tightly that he can feel his pulse pounding in his temples. "Even the slightest goddamn concept? At all? We can't afford for you idiots to fuck up like this right now!"

"It's not E's fault-" Vince starts but Ari glares at him and slices the air again, ending with his hand right in his pretty face.

"I said I don't want to fucking hear a word," he growls angrily. "I don't care if God himself came down from on fucking high and ordered you to suck his cock, Vince. You're in motherfucking public. Motherfucking public with your fucking studio head and the fucking paparazzi eating canapés and drinking Cristal on the other side of the goddamn door!"

He wants to smack him. He wants to smack both of them. Instead he runs his both his hands through his hair and tugs at his scalp. He hasn't been this mad since shit blew up with Terrence. No. Scratch that. He's never been this mad _ever_ because at least with that anti-Semitic cuntrag he'd had some semblance of control over the situation.

"Jesus do you have any idea-"

"I'm not gonna stand here and get lectured about my personal life by you Ari," E snaps, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks.

"Oh, yes, motherfucker, you are."

Ari notices the way his eyes keep darting over to Vince. He's a little puffed up, no doubt with fists balled ready to strike, and has moved slightly so that his pocket-sized body is between him and Vince.

Shit.

They are so royally fucked. They're fucked eight ways from Sunday because this isn't a drunken hook up.

"Ari," Vince says softly, the veritable voice of serenity in this insanity, "no one knows."

"Except for me. I know. I fucking know 'cause I walked in on Suckfest 2007 because you were both too horny and stupid to lock a goddamn door! It could have been _anyone_ Vince. It could have been some drunk starfucker with a camera phone. One grainy picture of your little exercise in faggotry emailed to TMZ.com and that would be the end. No comeback. No Ellen DeGeneres interview. Just the end."

He rubs his face and wishes that he could wake up from this nightmare. He wishes even more that he didn't care about Vince's career. This would be so much easier if he just didn't _care_.

"I swear to God - indie pictures, self-sabotaging press conferences, psychotic directors, and now this? It's like you _want_ your career to end. Do you want it to end, Vinny? Cause I think you can do it with a shitload more dignity than blowing this no-dicked loser in a bathroom!" Ari barks.

"Keep your goddamn voice down," E hisses, ever the motherfucking protector. Except from himself. E has done an utter dogshit job of protecting Vince from E.

More deep breaths. He tries to remember his wife's little yoga lessons but all he can remember is the blessed image of her ass in those stretchy pants. Which is just as good.

"We're going to leave now," Ari orders softly, calm once again. He's in combat mode and right now? He's got to be fucking Patton.

"Vince first. You're going to go and you're going to find the girl with the biggest tits you can find and you're going to get to at least second base, in public."

The boys stare at him as he unlocks the door, dumbfounded. Still as fucking moron statues.

"Go now." He says sharply and then suddenly Vince is gone, leaving him alone in a bathroom with E. It's only slightly less damaging to his psyche than finding Vince alone in the bathroom with E.

"You're going to wait twenty minutes," Ari said softly, "And then you're going to go get him and discreetly untangle him from whatever piece of ass he's entertaining. You're going to drive him to the Agency and go up to my office. If I'm not there yet, you're both going to sit on your fucking hands and wait. You're not going to fuck him or blow him or do anything at all sexual to him before I get there. I don't even want you to look at him if you can help it. Think you can handle that, Frodo?"

"Go fuck yourself, Ari," Eric replies dryly but he knows better. He's rattled E's cage and left him shaky.

"If you were fucking yourself, we wouldn't be in this trouble," Ari mutters and Eric gives him a sharp look. "Twenty minutes," Ari repeats before he lets himself out.

He's hitting speed dial three before the door shuts behind him.

"It's two am, Ari," Lloyd mumbles. "What do you want?

"Get your mincing ass up and get to the office. We have a code pink."

"A what?"

"Just go. Now."

He snaps his phone shut with a click. Then he slips into game face and feeds some cock and bull story about Sarah having a 102 degree fever so he can get the fuck out of there.

Even breaking all the city of LA's traffic laws, he still gets to MGA ten minutes after Lloyd, who is waiting at his desk - with coffee. It reminds him why he keeps the little fruit around.

"This better be good," Lloyd yawns. He's still in his pajamas underneath his jacket and he's got his head on one hand, his elbow propped up on his desk - the other is wrapped around a cup of coffee. "I was having this really fantastic dream about Orlando Bloom and a bottle of chocolate sauce," he sighs.

Ari thinks he might have just thrown up in his mouth a little at that image. "I've had about all the homoeroticism I can handle for one lifetime, Lloyd."

Lloyd rolls his eyes. "Fine, sour puss." He glances around the darkened offices. "Ari, what are we doing here? It's kind of spooky here at night."

The elevator dings loudly in the quiet of the empty agency, answering the question for him. Then Eric and Vince walk a veritable walk of shame towards his office.

"Hi guys," Lloyd says cheerfully, yawning again.

"Hey, Lloyd."

"Hi, Lloyd."

"Enough of the chitchat," Ari snaps. "We have to figure out what we're going to do now. Lloyd, get in here." The three of them seat themselves in his office, and he has a flash of Jonah and Sarah a few years from now that fills him with pure horror. It's funny because he usually loves to make these kind of speeches and throw around the kind of fury that is appropriate here.

"Now what?" Lloyd asks again. "Why am I here Ari?"

E and Vince have exactly thirty seconds to come out. He's counting in his head and when gets to thirty, he's going to out them to Lloyd because to be honest, he needs a fairy's perspective on this. Yes, he sent Lloyd ahead to clear the way with security and to do all the other things that he has an assistant for in the first place; but he is also the only gay person Ari actually knows as a person and is also the only living being in the fucking agency he that he can actually trust. And he's man enough to know that he's going to need help on this issue in the future.

Normally he'd just chew E out, smack him around a little, and tell him to shape Vince up. But that's not going work this time, mostly cause E's a girl trapped in a very small man's body and it's common knowledge that he can't fuck without feelings involved. And Ari doesn't know what the fuck to do with shit like "feelings."

When he gets to twenty five, Ari says "Do want you kids want to tell him or should I?"

"Ari, come on," Eric mutters.

That's his answer.

"I caught Tweedledee blowing Tweedledum at Harvey's party-"

"Jesus, Ari!"

"And we're now in fallout and damage control. You're here as the experienced homo consultant slash secretary."

Lloyd's trying very hard not make his "oh, that is so sweet face." His whole face is twitching and then he fails, miserably, and beams at Eric and Vince.

"Oh," he breathes almost airily. "That's so-"

"Say sweet and you're fired."

"Cute," Lloyd manages like that's any fucking better.

Vince actually has the balls to smile at Lloyd. E and Ari both gape at him.

"Thanks, Lloyd. Just don't tell anyone. Not even Turtle and Drama know."

"I won't tell. Cross my heart." And then, to Ari's shock and disgust, Lloyd actually does it; he crosses his heart. "You can trust me," he says conspiratorially.

"I do," Vince replies and then he winks. He fucking winks. At least E's got the good grace to look appalled. Ari's dismayed to realize that right now, E might be his best ally.

"Right, if you two can stop waving pride flags at each other for five seconds, we need to talk about what we're going to do about this," he waves a hand between E and Vince who are sitting far too close together on his couch, "situation."

"What's there to do about it?" Vince asks, leaning forward and bracing his arms on his knees. "I'm not going to break up with E, Ari. It took us too long to get here to just throw it away."

"Vince," Eric says softly, "I think you need to just be quiet and listen to him."

Vince blinks at him. "You do?"

"You do?" Ari echoed. E is always the last to trust him, the last to listen to him. He wonders if the real Eric Murphy's been replaced by a gay pod person. That would explain a lot.

"Yeah, Vince, I do." E reaches out and places his hand on Vince's arm. Vince's hand covers his and he strokes his thumb over E's knuckles. Lloyd sighs, his eyes welling with tears, and Ari feels like hurling. "I'll still be here in twenty years. Your career might not be. So just... let Ari do what you pay him for."

"Okay," Vince says, sitting back but keeping his hand in E's. "Okay, Ari, fine. What do I need to do?"

"You need to be careful, Vince," Ari says. He knows, with a kind of crystal clarity that is almost painful, that this is his perfect, if not only, opportunity to get his agenda across to them. It would be so easy. He could set Vinny on the path to be the next Bruce Willis in this moment with a few choice words.

But Vince and Lloyd are both staring at him with the big innocent puppy eyes that are way to much like his kids', and E's glowering at him in a way that's way too goddamn reminiscent of his wife. So for once, he voluntarily chooses honesty.

"We need to deal with Walsh's lawsuit because _Medellín_ has to do well, at least with critics if not at the bank. Then you need to do studio pictures -- at least three, four would be better -- that are fucking gold at the box office. I'm not saying you've gotta do another _Aquaman_ but we need you making movies that are going to be in every theater in the country. You've got to start saving yesterday in case this blows up in our faces." And oh, how it could all blow up, Ari thinks as he paces the familiar path in his office with a little more fervor than usual. "Before you even _think_ about talking to _People_ or the _Advocate_ about this little love connection, you need to have a handful more picture deals concrete and in the bag on top of the three we're going to do next."

"That sounds like a lot Ari," Vince says glumly. He's toying with the fingers of E's hand as he speaks like a kid with a Rubik's cube. "How long's that gonna take?"

"About five years," Lloyd says softly, almost sadly. He's taking notes and making calls in his head. Ari can see it and knows that one day, probably sooner than he'd like, Lloyd's going to be an excellent agent. "At least. Especially if you want studio projects that are actually worth the effort."

"You got any projects in mind?" E asks, already back to the business of making sure that Vince's career doesn't go down in flames like the fucking Hindenburg.

"Five years?" Vince snaps, angry for the first time all night. His fingers twist in E's and E turns to watch him with a carefully schooled expression. "Five years ago I was living in a two bedroom by the freeway with my brother and Turtle. Five years is a long fucking time Ari."

"It's going to take time before you can go from fucking Brad Pitt to Rupert Everett and still have the career you want, Vince. You need to get yourself better established before you pull an Ian McKellan. The guy did Shakespeare and was up for fucking knighthood before he came out. You need at least a statue before you do the same."

"But you shouldn't have to be in the closet if you don't want to be," Lloyd argued, ever the freaking marshmallow. "Do you want to?"

"Yes," Eric says sharply.

"No," Vince says warmly.

And now suddenly all the pressure in the room has shifted off Ari. He's never been less grateful because he doesn't want to see what's going to come next but it's not like he can run screaming from the room like a little girl, can he? No, he fucking cannot.

"You don't want people to know?" Vince asks, sounding a little hurt. He moves to pull his hand away from E's. "Really?"

"For God's sake, Vince," Eric hisses, not letting him go. "It's not about what I want. This could ruin your career. I told you that when we started this. And fuck your career, your mom, my mom - they'd lose it if we came out to them. I just..." He watches E talk a deep breath. "You know how I feel, but I don't think you've really thought about this."

"I've thought about walking down the street with you. Like Lloyd does with his boyfriend."

He wants to be anywhere but in the room right now. And Lloyd is pretty much in tears, which is even fucking worse. Ari hadn't thought things could get more uncomfortable but lo, they have.

"Even they can only do that in some parts of LA," E counters. He sounds impressively rational. This is not the punchy pizza boy from five years ago. This E's a real live adult. "This isn't easy, Vince. You don't have any idea. It's only been a few months since we started this and I don't think you've thought about it. I have. I've thought about what people are going to say to you, the letters you're going to get, the hatemail. It's going to come eventually but why do you want to chase that down?"

The line between Vince's eyes appears and he brings their clasped hands up between them. "'Cause I want to kiss you in public, E."

Ari watches as Lloyd rubs his eyes on the sleeve of his pajamas because he stupidly thought it had to be better than looking at the eyes E and Vince are making at each other but it just makes Ari want to leave even more. But E brings sense back into the picture for him.

"Tough. I want you to have a life. You can't have it if you come out now."

Vince's lip curls downward in the beginnings of a pout but he nods. "Okay then, when?"

E finally looks at him and gives him a questioning shrug.

"After we finish clean up on the _Medellín_ - _Silo_ -Walsh goatfuck," Ari says, "and after we have the ink dry on contracts for a handful of pictures that are going to make you very, very rich. If you can hold out 'til you get an Oscar, that's your best bet."

An Oscar is like a get out of jail free card for an actor. It's like giving a casting director or a studio head a set of x-ray glasses that forces them to look past orientation or age or scandal to the actual talent. That's Hollywood 101.

"I'm still not doing a studio movie if the script is shit, Ari," Vince says firmly.

Ari sighed, "You don't think you owe me at least one _Matterhorn_ after what I had to see tonight?"

"He doesn't owe you anything," E says, rising angrily to his feet, "You owe him for being loyal when you were at rock bottom and for coming back when you lied over and over again, you homophobic prick." His eyes narrowed and his entire face gets hard. He takes a step forward and on instinct, Ari takes a step back.

"We're trusting you on this," he says, his voice low and harsh., "but if you're lying to us now, if I find out that we could have managed this any other way and you kept it from us? I swear to God Ari, I'll kill you."

"God, that's hot," Vince says, a big dumb grin plastered over his face.

"Mm-hm," Lloyd agrees, staring almost hungrily at E.

Ari wishes he'd held onto that scotch. As it stands, he's going to need a fistful of Xanax to unwind after this night, but he doesn't flinch and he stares E down.

"I don't give a shit who you or Vince fucks," Ari says and it's mostly true. "I don't care if you two dress up like Carmen Miranda and use leeches on each other. I only care that other people are going to care. I care that the career that I've spent more than half a decade helping you build could come crashing down if this doesn't get handled properly. So, you guys want to get away? You tell me, and we arrange something discreet, possibly with some doubles. You want to buy him jewelry? You tell me and I have Lloyd take care of it. Yeah, it's not what you want but you don't want this to end you both either."

E says nothing and for a long moment, they're caught in a staring match that is so sixth grade Ari feels like he should run his tongue over his teeth to see if his braces are really gone or not. Then he nods, almost imperceptibly and it's one of the biggest wins Ari's ever had.

"I just need you both to be sure before we set up a five year plan," Ari says. He feels like a pathetic emo bastard like the little girly-boys his daughter is so obsessed with for even asking but he's got to. If there's even the slightest chance that this is just a fluke, a pre-midlife, crisis, he wants to know before he and Lloyd start working. "Are you sure he's worth it?"

"Yes," E says - no doubt, no hesitation.

Vince's response is more of a laugh. Like he's shocked that Ari would even ask such a thing.

"Are you kidding?"

"No."

"Of course I'm sure." And there's no hesitation or doubt in his response either.

Ari sighs. Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

"Of course they're sure. They're in love, duh," Lloyd says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. E looks away but Vince just smiles nervously. "See? All settled, you two head home," Lloyd declares, crossing the room to give each of them a hug.

E looks desperately uncomfortable, awkward and stiff, which Ari finds intensely satisfying, but Vince is loose and warm and slaps Lloyd on the back a few times before disengaging and reaching back for E's hand and Lloyd practically fucking glows at them.

"We'll take care of the details," he promises.

"No holding hands," Ari snaps. "Jesus, have neither of you snuck around before? Fuck."

"G'night Ari," E says, ignoring him and allowing Vince to lead him by the wrist out of his office. "We'll call you in the morning and iron things out."

"Yeah. You fucking do that, E. Call me. Let me know what other natural fucking disaster I have to clean up."

Ari heaves a heavy sigh and sinks into his couch as they go. He presses his palms against his eyelids but he can feel Lloyd standing in front of him - still fucking glowing.

He pulls his hands off his eyes and looks at his assistant. "What?"

"Nothing," Lloyd says, a smile twisting his lips. "I want to be you when I grow up, Ari Gold."

Ari snorts, shakes his head and places his palms back on his eyes. "Go get me a drink Lloyd. Something at least 180 proof that will kill as many brain cells as possible."

"You got it," Lloyd says and then the door swishes shut behind him.

Ari takes a deep breath and finally lets himself relax. And then, despite himself, he smiles.

 

 

 


End file.
